A Necessary Monster
by Renzin
Summary: A mysterious student starts at Hogwarts when Célina and the Marauders are in their sixth year; he is hiding his true form, and is powerful, dark and dangerous with a connection to the dark lord. what will happen when Célina is tasked with showing him around the school? And how does Remus feel about his best friend spending time with such a demonic character? OC/OC, OFC/Remus.
1. Chapter 1

Summary:

Célina's underestimated by everyone, even her friends have abandoned her, not even giving her the reason why. So when she suddenly runs into a less than chivalrous character, she's not exactly ready to welcome her _concerned_ EX-friends anytime soon. But there's more to her fiery stalker than what meets the eye; he makes her feel elated and terrified at the same time, and she's not sure if that mix is altogether a good thing…

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of Rowling's other stuff, just my various OCs.**

Chapter 1

"_It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you do live near him." –JRR Tolkien, The Hobbit._

"I am glad you've agreed, Drago. You have been hiding for far too long. I believe this is a good opportunity to connect with the wizarding world once more."

The giant mass of black snarled at Albus Dumbledore's words, the sound reverberating through his study like poison. The seat the figure occupied was dwalved by his form, the many folds of his robes draped around him ceremonially.

"Is that not why you asked if you were ready, my boy?"

"I will not explain my reasoning to you, _old man!_" His low baritone growled with the heavy rain outside, hammering away at the windows.

Dumbledore gave a small smile with his tired eyes. "There is no reason not to trust me, Drago. We have known each other for a long time, after all."

"16 years, Albus, since we got 'im out." Finnick Helron rasped from his corner of the study. His electric blue eyes, usually glaring to the shadows, were latched onto those hidden ones beneath their hood. "3 years since we convinced the Minister to let 'im join the wizarding world."

The black figure's forked tongue flicked into to view, tasting the air around him, before venturing back into the dark cage of his mouth to speak. "I have not seen more that 4 wizards in all those years; tell me, how am I joined to your world?"

"_Our world_, my boy," Albus said, "You know well that we had to teach you of our world, to train your…less animalistic mind to remain in control. Now that you are joining our education system, you will be treated as a student, and-"

"-And bow down to wizards who are terrified of me? Of what I am? Tell me _headmaster, _why should I stumble around like a little human child, obeying what the teacher says?"

Helron stepped forward. "Because some people deserve tha' sort of respect, Drago! Albus Dumbledore 'as been preventing the Ministry's attempts ter lock ya' up or worse since we knew of your existence! 'e runs Hogwarts, and all the teachers here are chosen by 'im specifically. Do you respect Albus? Yes? Then respect 'is choice of staff!"

Drago was suddenly at Helron's throat, lifting the burly man up into the air like it was nothing. The auror wrapped his hands around his wrist, but did not struggle. His scrutinising eyes bored into where Drago's would be. "If you wanted to kill me," he whispered, "you would've done it years ago, kid."

No one moved for a painfully long time. Not even the portraits made a sound, horrified by the scene they observed. Finally, Drago opened his hand, turning his back to Helron and making his way to the centre of the room.

Albus sat down, as if they need to stay balanced, 2 standing and one sitting down.

"Now my boy, we will discuss the details of your stay. You will be sorted now and will be sent to the dormitories of which ever house you end up in, with a separate room of your own; Voldemort believes you a failed experiment, deceased for some time, so you must keep your features hidden in public. Keep the extent of your powers hidden, as this will only cause the other students to talk. Your meals will be left by the house elves in your room, as you requested, and you have permission to visit Hogsmeade so long as you maintain the school standards, is that clear?"

Silence was his answer, though that was enough. Dumbledore made his way to a high shelf at the back of the room, retrieving a decaying brown wizard's hat, the leather frayed and a trail of dust following it in the air. Instead of placing it on Drago's head, he gave it to him to do so himself. The moment Drago's skull was engulfed, a heavy weight bore down on him, and a withered voice greeted him.

"_Ahhh…I've waited a long time to meet you, yes I have! Your brain does not disappoint! Cunning…calculated…ferocious as well! Just like…Mmm."_

"_Get out of my head!" _Drago roared, ripping hit off of him.

Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder, not phased when it was ripped off. "Calm yourself, Drago. I'm sorry, I should have warned you. The sorting hat must look at your qualities to determine which house you belong in; he cannot tell on what he sees to anyone, not even me, I assure you." Drago slowly replaced the hat back, warily leaving his gloved hands on the brim.

"_Back again I see! Next time, be gentler, boy, I'm very old and-"_

"_Get on with it, you dirty scrap of cloth!" _He growled.

"Certainly_ not a Hufflepuff then. Though there is…bravery in you, yes, I see it clearly now! A fierce loyalty, like that which is natural to your other kin. Perhaps it is better this way…yes, then its decided, GRYFFINDOR!" _The sorting hat shouted, instantly becoming limp once Drago had thrust it back towards Dumbledore.

The old wizard let out a relieved sigh, his intelligent eyes now twinkling behind their gold frames. "I hope you will be happy in Gryffindor, and at Hogwarts, my boy. Professor McGonagall is the head of your house; she is on her way and will show you to your chambers."

Helron made is way to the door, giving a nod as he left. "Stay outta trouble kid, I don't want to 'ear that your hind's being kissed by the dementors once I leave now. Goodbye Albus, I'll be in contact." The auror left the headmaster and new student alone, as the storm out side grew more tumultuous. They both listened to the rain, seemingly oblivious to one another, until Dumbledore spoke again.

"Do not let revenge and hate cloud the view of the opportunity you have, Drago. Do not let Voldemort shape you, even when you are out of his grasp."

The silence continued until Minerva McGonagall arrived, swiftly taking Drago away without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"_When walking into the lair of the dragon after robbing his hoard, the least you could do is hold your head high…" – Ilona Andrews, Fate's Edge. _

Bleach like skin, sticky eyes, a jungle of chocolate and gold locks to surround her figure. Célina DelaCroix was tired of it all. Of crying, or caring, of _Remus._ Or any of the Marauders in fact. As she viciously rubs the dust from her slick lashes, she remembers.

"_NO! This is too much, Célina! I told you not to meddle!"_

"_How could I not, Remus? I'm your friend, every time the full moon comes along, I worry that something will happen and-"_

"_As if I haven't worried as well?! I am wrought with worry about if I could hurt Sirius, James and Peter, how do you think I would feel if you were in harms way as well!"_

She ran a hand through her roots, which gets caught easily; its not even dawn, she has time to wash it, but what's the point? The bite of toothpaste doesn't wake her from her thoughts, nor the chill of the freezing shower.

"_You trust them and not me?"_

"_How can you say that?! I told you something that I've been hiding for years, in fear of being rejected!"_

"_But I'm NOT rejecting you, Moony! I'm so close to becoming an animagus, then I can come with you-"_

"_NO. I forbid you!"_

"_Y-You _what!_ 'Forbid me'?" _

"…_Yes. For god's sake, you're scared of the forbidden forest and most of the Slytherins, you won't be able to handle it! This can't go on!"_

The bullets of water assault her back, reminding her that she's not dreaming. As the tendrils of hair flatten over her face in knots, she relents to cleaning them as well. Her fingers rip through them, the froth of shampoo pooling at her wrinkling feet.

"_I can do it, Remus, I know I can!"_

"_You can't even control your natural magic, you'll mess up and I'll have to live with the guilt, we all will."_

A red towel packages her head, another around her body and she leaves the bathroom without looking at her reflection. On the other side of the door is a single room, red with gold drapes around the four poster bed and windows. The chamber of Gryffindor's Head Girl. Her room, secluded from the other sixth year girls, from her best friend Lily Evans. Not that she's here anyway; she doesn't even know that Célina has spent the night being told to stay away from the Marauders, her family away from home. Lily's at her sister's wedding, not set to return till the next week; she's unlikely to get Célina's owl by then, not that she's sent one.

"_Sirius and James prat about, and Peter runs away at the first sight of danger, how can you let yourself transform with them and not me!"_

"_DON'T TALK ABOUT THEM LIKE THAT!"_

"_DON'T SHOUT AT ME!" _

"…_Célina"_

"_H-How are th-they better tha-than m-me?...A-Answer me R-Remus, dam-damnit!"_

"…_Please don't…Just stop this madness, please. I'm telling you I don't…god, this is too much!" _

Her scalp screams as her comb rips at it, but soon the job is done. Remus used to say how much he liked her hair when she plaited it in intricate ways; this makes her leave it down, the lower tendrils swaying past her hips. Everything hurts. The buttons on her skirt scratch her on the way up her thighs; the Head Girl badge pricks her as she re-adjusts it; her eyes sting as the morning light corrodes them once the curtains are open. She needs to snap out of it; there's work to do, lessons to attend and appearances to be made. She takes out her advanced transfiguration textbook out to re-read, until the Great hall is actually open for breakfast.

Only a week till Lily comes back, then she won't have to sit alone anymore.

"_I-I just w-want t-t-to help-p…"_

"_I don't _want_ your help."_

As long as she immerses herself in her studies, she'll survive. She loves her books, and as long as she avoids her usual dwelling in the library, she won't see him.

"_W-Why them a-and not m-me? Why d-d-does it e-even have-ve to b-be a c-choice?"_

"_Célina…we can't talk after this. At all. It's not the same, and frankly, I was wrong to think you could be like the Marauders are to me."_

"_W-What th-the hell, y- you… idiot! We're n-n-not even d-dating, you're m-my FRIEND, w-why are y-you t-talking like w-we're breaking u-up?!" _

"_I can't be…my relationship with you is not what yours is with me…please don't cry."_

"_Why w-won't y-you t-tell me the t-truth, Moon-ny?"_

"_Don't call me that. I'm sorry, but we can't…I can't be around you any longer."_

"_N-No! R-Remus…I H-H-HATE YOU, Y-YOU STUPID M-MUTT!"_

"_No, you don't, Célina, that's the problem." _

And just like that, 6 years of friendship, gone. As if it wasn't even there. Remus was like a brother, a better one than her own. He was the first she ever told about her…faulty magic, that her wand was actually useless really. A piece of wood with a shiny finish. He was the one who spent every free period studying with her, who told Sirius to back off when she started wearing skirts and actually developed breasts, who got the other Marauders to help stop the Slytherins from targeting her. When she thought of home, she thought of her parent's house in Cornwall, and Hogwarts. Both included visits from Remus, letters from him, reminders of him everywhere.

Her dress from last years Yule Ball, where they had both gone stag together.

The necklace from him; an iron locket with a wizarding picture of them together at Hogsmeade one year, with a full moon and '_love, Remus' _on the back.

All the photos in her room.

Even her goddamn Arithmecy books reminded her of Remus.

Célina packed her brown leather satchel for the day, flicking her hair to the side wildly, the way she loved it and Remus hated it. He was always so precise, anything that wasn't tidy or in order frustrated him. Her laces were mismatched as usual, undone again to aggravate him, her silent rebellion. Everything still revolved around him, even when he had banished her from his world, feeding her some bull about it being to protect her. There was something _more_.

_What are you hiding?_

When she got to the Great Hall, it was full of students and teachers, all merrily eating together. Was there always this much laughing?

The Marauder's are in their usual spot. James catches Célina's eye, his smile fades, and he hurriedly looks to Remus, his mouth quickly moving. Remus stiffens, but doesn't turn around.

"_Just pretend I don't exist, that we were never friends." _

He was doing a great job of that, for sure. Célina pulled at the strap of her satchel, and then remembered to move, as she was blocking the way for a group of Ravenclaw girls. She took her seat near the front of Gryffindor's table, closest to the teacher's table. If she turned their way, then her frien-no, the _Marauders_ would be out of her view.

Célina chose porridge today, despite the fact that she didn't particularly like British foods. With her father being a French pureblood and her mother a muggle Indian, she had grown up with taste buds trained for more _exotic_ foods. Bland oats and mashed potatoes were nothing like French pastries and a good spicy curry.

She was getting up with a half filled stomach, when a excruciatingly load scream came from the entrance of the great hall, which scared her and caused her to trip over her laces, hitting the stone floor with a slap. Everyone looked for the source of the noise, which was a tiny Hufflepuff first year, then blanched when they saw the reason. A few more girls screamed and all conversations were struck dead.

A tower of black was standing in the doorway. He was wearing a tight, long sleeved black vest and black trousers with a heavy metal buckle of what seemed to be a set of jaws. His long black robes fell down in asymmetrical layers of fabric, ending at his knees with a thin red trim. Black leather gauntlets were tightened around large gloved hands, with matching boots, both adorned with weathered iron buckles. A giant black hood hid most of his face from view, the visible lower half covered by a thick leather mask with no holes for a mouth or nose. The top of it was hidden, however if you looked closely, you could make out the bold stitching of flames dancing across the material.

Drago stood at almost 7 foot tall. When he walked around the first year that was still on the floor, it was with long strides, the swaying from his waist and shoulders screaming his masculinity. There was a predator's grace about him, and the way his head swivelled at everyone, gave the impression that they were all his prey.

Everyone jumped when he spoke, a loud rumble like thunder that sent shudders up the insides. "Who is the Head Girl, Delacroix?"

No one dared speak. Not even the teachers would move, still transfixed as only Mcgonagall and Dumbledore had seen Drago in person. Finally, everyone around Célina turned and pointed at her on the floor.

She looked up at him, too terrified to move as he made his way towards her. Drago stopped right in front of her, so that her neck stung with how tall he was. She flinched and shut her eyes when she saw his hand swing down, but didn't feel the blow she had automatically expected. The audible gasp from everyone made her open her eyes again, which widened in shock. He was holding his hand out, expecting her to take it!

When she didn't make to take his hand Drago rolled his eyes, not caring that no one could see him do so. He picked her up by the fabric around her neck and held her upright, until a sufficient about of time had past. Even then when Drago let go, she still stumbled a little.

"You are Delacroix?"

It felt like her chest would explode with fear. All of her instincts were telling her to run as fast as possible, though the nagging logic in her brain told her not to be so ridiculous. Célina didn't trust her voice, so she just shakily nodded.

"Good. You're going to show me around today." Drago couldn't help but smirk when her eyes got even wider with shock. Everyone was always so terrified of him, he could reduce then to tears with a look. And they hadn't even seen what was under the uniform!

Célina obviously hadn't heard him properly. "W-what?"

Great, Dumbledore had given him a retarded guide. "You. Are. Going. To. Show. Me. Around."

"A-are you a n-new s-st-student?"

"No, I'm the devil." That always made him chuckle, people's reaction to that answer. Célina's started shaking even more.

"I-I don't t-think t-that's in m-m-my j-juris-d-d-diction."

"Then it is a good thing that I am, in fact, a student." Célina gasped when his face was suddenly lowered inches from hers, rasping "Is _that _in your jurisdiction, girl?"

She just stared at him. How could Dumbledore do this to her? Without any warning or anything! She had to have the devil/new student follow her around and not be expected to wet herself?

_Dealing with mysterious cloaked figures you could squash me with one hand was not what is signed up for as Head Girl!_

If she didn't breath, she knew she would faint.

The return of her heavy breathing send her brain into automatic, making her dig out her timetable and flatten it out to see. "R-right, erm…w-what do you h-have first?"

"The same as you. Would it not be so, if you were my guide?" Was she supposed to answer that? "Well?"

Apparently so.

"Y-yes. That would m-make sense." Célina let out a single note of a terrified laugh, "T-to double transfig-figuration, then."

Drago watched her pick up her bag, which was bursting at the seams and followed her after a pause, slightly behind her so that he knew that she could still see him.

Célina saw the Marauders looked at her with horrified expressions in answer to her own paling face. She wanted to scream at them to help her! But she didn't think this shadowy…_student_ would like that, maybe even throttle her if he didn't like the sound.

Oh god, what if he was in league with the Dark Lord? She would be aiding a person in favour of killing poor muggles like her mother!

_Why didn't I let Dad enrol me at Beauxbatons?_

As they walked, Célina could here his heavy footfalls, which were slow, like a resting heartbeat; he was walking at her pace, his shadow blackening the path in front of them. She tried concentrating on his footsteps to lower her own heart rate, but she could only think about how they reminded her of some wildcat stalking their prey.

They didn't say a word the entire way. People scampered out of their way like rabbits, so that they didn't encounter any human traffic in the corridors, however when they reached the class, it was already fairly full.

When they entered all noise stopped. Even Professor Mcgonagall froze briefly, before stiffly nodding for them to take a seat and continuing to write the lesson plan on the black board.

Célina looked to where she could sit; the Marauders took up their own row, in the back of the left hand side of the class. She felt a pang of rejection when she saw her usual seat filled with Peter's books. She refused to meet their eyes as they stared, so she made her way to the empty back row on the right, which was covered in writing and by the creaking window that always let in a chilly draught.

As she took her books out and sat down, she froze as a familiar shadow engulfed her, as _he _took the seat right next to her. Was he trying to give her a heart attack? There were two other empty seats on the end of the bench that were actually further away from the window!

_Get your act together, you're a Delacroix damnit! If Dad has the balls to play in a jazz band that performs hundreds of hormonal french witches and ponytail wearing wizards, then you can deal with tall, terrifying and...terrifying! _

She looked at the board and read the instructions; Mcgonagall had set them to first write notes on Prim's law of imitation, something Célina and Lily had read about already. She fished out the notes she had made from the back of her folder and lay them to the side so that she could refer to them; taking out her quill and parchment, she hastily started writing, partially to avoid interacting with her stalker, and partially so that she could avoid homework. Besides, studying always calmed her down.

Especially with Remus.

"_For god's sake, you're scared of the forbidden forest and most of the Slytherins, you won't be able to handle it!"_

She hated herself for actually flinching at the memory, like she had done when he said it.

Drago watched the Head Girl make notes, as he lazily ran his own quill over his new parchment. She looked like she would break her wrist at the pace she was going; he could smell her fear, so potent he could taste the swirls of it in the air around his mouth.

He was surprised when he saw she was sitting alone, that no friend of hers had made an attempt to help her up; Drago knew by human standards that she was very attractive, the features about her prominent apart from her face itself, which was oval and soft.

Why had she been alone? And why was she sitting in the back of the class with him?

_Possibly because you sat next to her. _

He growled at his inner thoughts. Usually beautiful objects and people were coveted, which was the reason why everyone was so terrified of him.

_Monster. They'll never think of you as one of them. _

_Shut it!_

Célina jumped when he snarled, terrified that he was about to do something to her. But he didn't even look up from his work, of which was lengthy like hers, going on for several pages. His writing was so unusual, like calligraphy, though far more jagged and rushed like the fonts for horror movies.

_How fitting…_

She shook her head, now was not the time to make jokes! Maybe she could survive this if all the lessons were the same, just taking notes in silence?

"Class, time is up. Continue this for homework if your notes are insufficient, I will be checking." Mcgonagall called, "We will now work on Prim's first law. Can anyone- ah Miss Delacroix, please continue."

"Prim's first law states that a copy of an item can only be created if the caster of the spell has a clear image and knowledge of the object in question. Weaker wizards will need to see the original copy in front of them, while those involving other senses, such as sound, will need to be known as well. For example, when copies of instruments are made, they are best done by experienced musicians who are familiar with the type of sound it produces."

"Very good, Miss Delacroix, correct as always. Take 10 points for that."

"Thank you Professor." Célina looked down quickly, not wanting to catch the gazes of the Marauders; Remus always said she was excellent in Transfiguration, even better than James when she didn't use her wand, though of course she couldn't do that in public.

Drago was surprised that Delacroix had even managed to say that many words so fluently, and without stuttering. He had taken her for a dimwit before.

_It's because you terrify her, that's why. _

So she was intelligent as well as beautiful; why didn't she have any friends then?

_She's so strange…_

Drago looked up to see a group of boys to his left staring at him, all of them flinching when he bore his glare down on them. The shortest, pump one gave the most satisfying response, yelping loudly and looking down at his work again, but the other three, while shivering, were still trying not to back down.

_How brave and…stupid. _

His lips rose over the gums of his canines, brushing against the inside of his mask.

The brown haired boy with circular glasses went down second, after a wince that he unsuccessfully tried to hide. The next was the black haired boy with daring grey eyes; he seemed to be fighting for dominance, which excited Drago, though it quickly faded as he too looked away.

The final was skinny, with lighter hair and pale scars peering through his straightened collar; he looked sickly and hollow, with a solemn expression tangled with fear and…worry?

Drago realised that his gaze was flitting between him and the girl, as if he was worried for _her_, but then why was he not with her before? What sort of…

Then his scent hit is nose.

_Werewolf! _

He sniffed deeply again, leaning obviously in their direction, relishing that the werewolf's eyes widened at what he was doing.

_The others…are animagi! We've got a lot of wild animals at Hogwarts already! _

He smirked under his mask as the werewolf hastily went back to the others, probably conveying his suspicions.

Drago turned his attention back to the Delacroix girl, but then paused when he didn't remember her name.

_Well, you weren't expecting to _want_ to remember her full name, were you? Something with a 'ee' in it…_

_Josephine…_

_Nina…_

_Ce…ce…what was it! _

He gave up his mental conundrum by deciding to ask the source himself. Drago clasped her forearm and turned her so that she was facing him. "What is your name?"

"D-D-Delacroix…"

He supressed the urge to snort. Not only had she reverted to her stuttering state, but she didn't seem to know her own first name, unless…

_That's crafty, she doesn't WANT me to know! _

Drago leaned in closer so that she could hear the rumble of a muffled growl. "Your name. Now!"

He wanted to know her name?! What was going on in his head? If he knew her name, he could-

Now she was being silly. What could he do exactly; everyone else knew it anyway, what was the big deal? But when she thought of his voice saying her name…

She mentally slapped herself.

"Célina." He nodded at went back to his work. Wasn't he going to tell her his name? That, in her opinion, was far more important! She asked before she thought about what she was doing, her hurt pride fuelling her mouth.

"And yours?" She said snarkily, instantly throwing a hand over her mouth and flushing red.

Drago was shocked by the girl.

_By Célina…_

Had she actually…sassed him? NO ONE did that to him!

If it were anyone else, they would've been thrown out the window with a few less limbs by now.

So why wasn't she?

_Because she's like you; isolated, shunned, an outsider. _

Célina swore she was breathing her last hyperventilated breaths. He had been staring at her for over a minute now, not moving one muscle of the many he had.

Her fingers had pins and needles from the crackling magic he was exuding, itching to perform some of their own.

When he leaned closer, she was wondering if he was going to force her off the bench; but then he abruptly stopped and…sniffed? Did he have a cold? She flinched when he spoke, the mesmerising rumble of his voice dizzying in such close proximity.

"Drago Agramon-Sollenion Valac." He growled, daring her to move away. Much to his surprise, Célina's eyes lit up a little and her brows furrowed in thought.

"Drago…Drago means _dragon_, doesn't it?... And I've heard your middle name somewhere before…are you parents religious?" Both of them seemed stunned at what she just said, Célina's blue eyes widening and watering under his scrutiny.

"…Yes it does."

And suddenly he was back in his proper place, writing the date at the top of his work and ignoring her completely.

Was that the way to make him leave her alone? Risk decapitation by asking about him? She had definitely heard Argamon before…why was it so hard to remember?

A little later, Mcgonagall gave each desk 4 cups, ranging on size and design and therefore, ability. The aim of the remainder of the lesson was to make copies of all of these objects, taking Prim's laws into account.

Célina got straight to work, drawing out a table for each of the cups, labelling their difficulty and leaving spaces to write in her success rate.

She took the smallest, plainest cup first, tentatively checking if Drago wanted it first; he didn't, as it were, seemingly bored out of his mind with his arms crossed and leaning back on the bench.

This was the irritating part.

Célina took out the oak and unicorn hair wand she detested but relied on to appear normal; in truth, she hadn't cast a spell with it in months, and could probably count the number of times she had used it truly over her entire time owning it on her hands.

It was a cover up to the real way she wielded magic, something that only her parents, Lily, the Marauders, Dumbledore and her head of house knew about.

She resentfully clutched the wand in her left hand, swishing the wand in the perfect motion of the copying spell and pointed it at the cup, quietly smug when it's copy burst out of it. She turned to her table and wrote a brief summary of this cup's copy.

Drago couldn't believe it when he felt the breeze of wandless magic next to him. Dumbledore had told him only a few wizards and witches in history had ever been able to succeed enough to be notable in wandless magic, and Drago himself was the only one he knew of to not ever need a wand at all, even though it was part of the syllabus to be able to perform a little magic wandlessly for NEWTS.

So when his senses drew his attention to Célina copying her second cup, he could barely believe it; due to his notable height, he could see the shuffling of her hand on her right side, pointed at the cup like her wand was in her left.

_Why in Merlin's name is she hiding it? I certainly won't! _

_Don't be a fool; Dumbledore told you that Voldemort's spies are everywhere; he probably would be interested in another young witch who can do wandless magic that well! _

Did she even need the wand? Unlikely, considering that she barely kept a good grip on it. But he needed to be sure.

Just as Célina was waving her wand for the final cup, Drago snatched the wand out of her hand, and just as he thought, her right hand through muscle memory finished the spell and produced the cup's copy without the wand.

"So I was right then…"

Célina looked at him, the fear in her stronger than ever before. "H-how-"

With an elegant flick of his wrist he levitated her wand back in front of her, careful to keep it low from prying eyes. Célina gasped. "You can do it as well! I've never met anyone who could as well!"

"Nor have I."

"D-did you see me…?"

"Yes, but I sensed it first."

He watched her mouth 'he _sensed_ it' a few times, and took the opportunity to observe her.

Her voluptuous lips curved and danced as she silently spoke, making her nose twitch with it; with his superior eyesight, he could make out the dewy sheen of her skin, and the assortment of colours that danced in her eyes, even in her frustrated state.

Her most noticeable feature would've been her hair, or her figure, both of which he took in while she was walking; both were curvatious and exotic, a complete contrast to her wide, fearful eyes and fragile flickers of emotion. The base colour of her hair was a dark brown like wet soil, with bright golden streaks everywhere; the corkscrew curls were even more violent there, the shade rivalling the gold of the Gryffindor robes and finishing in ringlets around her bottom and framing her face. While the school robes did a good job of covering her up, and she was also wearing a bulky jumper underneath, her shapely calves, and the slopes of her backside and chest could be made out, enough for Drago's imagination to fill in the rest.

Why Drago was spending so much time noting this, he wouldn't know.

He tried to quietly sniff at her again, remembering her startled face before; she smelt fresh, an earthy ground giving form to the root scents of roses, apples and milk. Without realising, he purred.

Célina froze as he started…growling again, though softer…what-

But just then, Mcgonagall signalled class was over, and Célina hurriedly took her packed bag and raced out of the room, ready to cross the staircase to Charms. When she looked behind her, to her horror, she saw the Marauders making their way towards her, eyes filled with intent.

It came to a surprise that she felt a pang relief that Drago suddenly stepped out of nowhere, making her jump yet again when he whispered in her ear, "Now you wouldn't be running off, would you? That's not very responsible for a Head Girl, to abandon her charge, now is it?"

Célina gave him a shaky look. "W-Wouldn't dream of it…"

"Good. I'm very resilient, you know." His breath was scalding against her, causing her breath to catch in her dry throat, "The staircase has moved to us now… Célina."

He grinned to himself when the unnatural paleness of her face flushed a scandalous pink.

Célina made her way to charms feeling as though she would have a heart attack, the cause of which was right behind her.

When she made her way into the charms classroom, she chose a seat as far away as possible from where she used to sit by the Marauders, only to cringe when after taking her seat she remembered that these were two seater desks. Drago stood next to her, watching her as she held her breath, then took his seat and started unpacking his charms textbook.

The lesson continued much like the beginning of transfiguration, with note taking from the text.

At one point Drago caught her quill when it flew out from her grasp as she had been swirling it feverishly. He held the quill with two hands, as if it had come from a phoenix, then leaned over her to slowly place it back in her hand. The heat from his body was inhumane, the prominent flexing of his arm made Célina even more hot and bothered.

She shuddered when his hand opened her palm and curved her fingers back around the quill one by one, as if nothing had happened.

Her reaction to his touch seemed to entice him, because he trailed his hand slowly down the desk to his side, letting it roll over Célina's other hand on its journey back.

Later on, the Professor told them to get into pairs to practice levitating one another. Célina's heart jumped a little when she saw Remus dart around the desks in her direction, but her view was blocked by the black form of Drago, arms crossed as if he was daring her to try and take another partner.

She sighed and pulled out her wand, clasping it in her left hand and ready to wave it when Drago's huge paw gripped her wrist with astounding speed. She hadn't even seen him coming!

"Don't use that stupid stick if you don't need it. I know you don't."

"I c-c-can't, D-D-Dumbledore said-"

"Do I look like a old man with a fucking beard and gold glasses like Merlin himself?"

"D-Drago…" she whimpered, "You're hurting m-me…"

He dropped her hand like she had burned him. "…I apologise. That was not the aim of my actions."

_Merlin's shaggy left foot._

He had apologized!

_Why is that such a big deal? _

_Look at him! Does he look like a Hufflepuff?_

Drago Agramon-Sollenion Valac was actually _sorry_ for hurting her, instead of laughing at her decapitated head. Célina looked at her wrist; it was still red and the indentations of his grip were sore; this was definitely going to leave a memorable bruise…

She readjusted her grip on her wand, waving it perfectly while her other hand made the same motions under the desk; but nothing happened!

_This spell has always worked before! Why now…_

Drago looked down at her, his smirk back at her confusion. "I wouldn't bother doing magic on me. You'll just waste your time."

"What do you mean, why won't it work on you?" She frowned.

"I have a thick hind."

"You have-what? I don't-"

"My turn!" Drago interrupted her. He raised his arm towards her and twirled it. Almost immediately Célina shot into the air to the top of the tall ceiling, screaming. Everyone in the class gasped when they saw the scene, Professor Reed coming over in a flash.

"Boy, put Miss Delacroix down! While extremely impressive, I don't think that she is comfortable up there!"

"Nahh, I think she looks like she likes it!" Drago sniggered.

"Drago! Put me down now!" Célina shrieked.

"Are you sure? I thought goody-goody angels like yourself _liked_ to fly?"

"Stop it now, or I'll hex you to oblivion!" Sirius snarled.

"CÉLINA!" Remus roared, the Marauders alongside him, wands at the ready.

"Put her down now you git!" James shouted.

"JAMES DON'T-" But James didn't listen to Remus. He lunged at Drago, knocking him off balance.

Bad idea.

The moment his eyes left Célina's floating form, the spell broke and she hurtled down towards the floor.

She screamed and braced herself for the hard impact, but was stopped by something strong and broad, wrapping itself around her. She clutched onto the solid object, frightened of falling again, as her vision started fog and she was feeling painfully light headed.

Drago held her close, boiling with anger. He wanted to rip the throats of the werewolf's friends; his vision was hazy from the hammering of his own violent pulse. He was only playing around, like he did with the others in the wild; if it hadn't been for that stupid boy with the glasses…

Drago turned to James with a look so demonic, the class backed away, feeling his rage pulsing in the atmosphere. The air seemed to leave their lungs, becoming stagnant and chilled.

He wanted to make him pay so badly. If he hadn't caught her- Célina!

He looked down at her, and saw she had passed out, looking a deathly purple colour. She needed medical attention now; without another word, he made for the exit, intent of taking her to the medical wing that Dumbledore had shown him before.

"Mr Valac! Come back this instant! 20 points from Gryffindor!"

Professor Reed's returned courage ran away again when Drago spun around to face him. "No. She needs to go to your medic. And I'm not the one you need to fucking punish, it was fine until that fucker had to push me!"

"You were scaring her!" James glared, though he blanched when Drago took one menacing step towards him.

"When I'm done with her, I _will_ come back for you, and then you will know what true fear is, _worm_."

And with that he exited the class room, breaking into a cat like run, a mere blur to those who would've seen him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"_Let me tell you: the only way to get rid of dragons is to have one of your own." –Evgeny Shvarts. _

"I didn't mean to _old man_, so stop trying to fucking blame it on me!"

"You cannot abuse your power over others, Drago, _those _are the actions of Vol-"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP NOW!"

Dumbledore returned Drago's murderous glare, only responding when his breathing was less audible. He said, calmly, "Why do you act like him, when you hate to be compared to him, Drago? You are here to learn, understand the good aspects of our world and not the dark ones that you seem to believe only exist."

"It doesn't work that way for creatures like me."

"The truly good people in this world will not care about whether you look like a monster, but about whether you act like one. Taunting, violence, provoking, spreading fear? Know one is born evil, Drago, it is our actions that dictate our fate."

"Then what did I do to fucking piss fate off like this then? Huh?" Drago snarled, raising his arms up from his side, "What am I here for if not to scare people? That's what they except of me, isn't it?"

"If you truly believed that, you wouldn't have asked to come here. Remember, _you _wanted to join Hogwarts, to take on _your_ wizarding heritage. And as for you being evil, that is simply not so; you are still brave and kind at heart."

Drago's sneering laugh echoed around humourlessly before he rasped "Don't kid yourself, I don't do anything unless it's good for me and you know it."

"Now I know that isn't true, not a word of it!" Dumbledore's eyes gleamed, "The sorting hat saw that in you, Godric Gryffindor's spirit is in your core like any other in your house. And Miss Delacroix would be severely injured if not for you."

"It wasn't like that she fell on me-"

"_No, _Drago. Don't deny your own nature. While you may have extremely wild instincts, you are not a cold monster as you would like everyone to believe."

"Even if I wasn't, what does it matter? Everyone sees the monster they want to see." He scowled.

"Miss Delacroix does not."

"Ha! She barely stopped herself from crying the entire time!"

"That is because you were purposely scaring her Drago and you know it! Célina is a very kind person by nature, she will not run from a monster if you give her reason not to!" Dumbledore sighed and rubbed at the rim of his glasses.

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" Drago growled quietly.

"She told you?"

"No," He said shortly, "I could feel her magic, hiding behind that splinter of wood you call a wand."

"It is necessary, I'm afraid. Only adults are known to be able to almost perfectly cast wandless magic, and even then it is not as strong as yours or Célina's. If she was discovered…"

"But she refuses to do wandless magic at all!"

"Yes, I did tell her that a tiny bit would be fine, but she is very cautious, and unsure of her power. In time, I hope she will adjust. Why do you ask?" Dumbledore said knowingly.

"…Never met someone who could do it like I can…" It was barely audible, however Dumbledore caught the words, muffled by Drago's mask.

"You know," He prompted, "If you want to be accepted by people, the best course of action would be to appeal to them to be your friend. Being calm and friendly can go a long way, Drago my boy."

Drago scoffed, but said nothing. "She is still in the Medical wing with Madame Winslow, if you are interested in making amends."

Dumbledore left Drago in his room, smiling quietly. This was perfect; if Drago mad the effort to become Célina's friend, surely she would steer him away from the dark arts. She was pure of heart, but scared and lost, while he was too obsessed with the demon he thought he was. Perhaps they could change each other?

Drago Valac was right when he said he didn't have a say in what happened to him at birth. The Dark Lord had finally completed his experiments of creating a living demon of sorts, a forbidden twist between wizard and magical creature. By the time the Order and Ministry had infiltrated the lair, many infants had already died from the torture, the remains of various alchemists and supporters also found. Voldemort had fled, thinking that Drago was another failure; his misjudgement had been the boy's saving grace, giving him a chance to grow up with his wild kin freely and now to take his rightful place in the wizarding world, away from the dark art's clutches.

However, Drago was obsessed with other people's perceptions of himself, weighed down by a thick self-loathing. He was cunning, ambitious with a cold body of the ideal killing machine; but he was capable of more, Dumbledore knew, of loving, loyalty and being happy. He was at a crossroads, being pulled both towards the light and dark.

Which meant…he could turn either way.

Perhaps Célina could be the final push?

She woke up with her eyes closed, already knowing where she would wake up; in the Medical wing, placed in one their beds and most likely to be held hostage by Madame Winslow until further notice. While her head hurt like hell and her limbs ached with lack of circulation, she had no trouble remembering _why _she was there and not in class.

He_ decided to dangle you from the damn ceiling, making you scream bloody Mary._

And then…saved you?

She remembered being caught in his huge arms, being held close to his sweltering body, the last thing she could think of was how strong he felt, and the slow drum of his heart by her ear…

Célina was pulled out of her sensory memory by the brushing of her hair, the vibrations travelling through her curls like a spider's web to tickle her face. Just as she felt like she would sneeze from the irritation, a giant hand blocked the light that assaulted her closed lids, caressingthe tendrils away from her face.

Without thinking, she sighed and rubbed the hand ever so slightly, happy that it chose to stay there.

_Thank god you're here, Moony I-_

Célina's eyes snapped open to see an angry Madame Winslow standing by the door, mouth quivering and the smashed remains of a blue bottle at her feet. "How did you get back in here, Mr Valac, I told you that she needed to rest!" She ranted.

_Mr Valac…why…Drago's here?!_

She whipped her face to the other side and whimpered when she saw who was there.

His hand was still lying next to her on her pillow as he sat down next to her. He was still adorned in the same black uniform; though the outer layer had been shed reveal his skin tight black vest, tucked into his trousers, gauntlets and mask. Célina blushed when she lifted her gaze to his after trailing over the ripples of muscles right in front of her.

He puffed up a little under her scrutiny, before answering in a dark tone to Madame Winslow. "I don't care what you told me to do, woman. I said I would not leave and I won't until she does; just because you can't look through a simple invisibility spell, doesn't mean it's my fucking problem!"

Wow wow wow. Did Drago sound… concerned?!

"MR VALAC-"

"Madame Winslow, it is quite alright, I assure you."

The medic gaped. "Professor Dumbledore, why-"

"I have come to see Miss Delacroix, though it seems I am not the only visitor." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with his small smile. "Please, if you could give us a minute, Madame Winslow. I will be out of your hair soon enough."

Madame Winslow huffed at the dismissal, though did comply. Dumbledore drew a chair next to the shell shocked Célina and scowling Drago, pulling out a striped bag from his robes. "Lemon drop?" he popped one in his own mouth when they just stared at him.

"Professor Dumbledore," Célina murmured, "Why did you need to see me?"

"It seems you to have something in common, no? Both with an unheard of grasp of wandless magic, my dear."

Drago scoffed. "As if you didn't know old man," he ignored Célina's gasp, "You didn't make her my tour guide just 'cause she's Head Girl, did you?"

"No. I did not. I believe that both of you could benefit from knowing each other."

Célina shook her head feverishly. "I'm sorry Professor, but you _know _I don't want to develop my problem any further!"

"It's not a fucking problem," Drago snarled, ignoring the remorse he felt when she winced.

"Drago, control yourself." Dumbledore said sternly. He placed a hand on Célina's fist affectionately. "My dear, I cannot stress this enough, you are gifted, not cursed! Is it still physically painful? What has become of your attempts to become an animagi? That would be a logical way to let out a lot of pent up magic in your body."

"I've been trying, I know I'm almost there but…"

Dumbledore nodded his head in understanding. "Time will mend your relationship with Mr Lupin, my dear, but that must not halt your own development." The headmaster gave a smile to Drago. "You should return to your rooms both of you, before it is past curfew; Mr Valac has been very concerned about your fainting spell, Miss Delacroix. I believe he will feel at ease if you both left before you lose your beauty sleep as well!" At with that, he swiftly left.

So they were alone.

And she was in her…oh god she was only in her hospital dress!

Drago's shifting brought her out of her fretting. He pulled his outer robe back on and looked down at her, still towering over her even when she moved up onto her knees.

"…Thank you." Célina smiled tentatively. "Did anyone else come?"

Drago looked away with frustration. She was wondering whether the werewolf and the other brats had come, oblivious to the fact that _he _was the one who actually turned up!

He grabbed her forearms and growled. "Listen here, girl. Stop worrying about those dirt bags who didn't even want to sit with you before _I _came along."

"They're not dirt bags! They're my friends!" she yelled. "What gives you the right to-"

"I didn't see you 'friends' with you in the Great Hall. Were your _friends _with you when you were hiding your power? Were they the one's who made you so fucking insecure? Were they the ones who brought you up here when you fainted? Huh?"

"That's none of your business! And you were the one you levitated me! I'm terrified of heights!"

_Stupid stupid stupid! She didn't even hear me practically confess that I was her friend!_

"You were perfectly safe." He said shortly.

"That doesn't matter! You don't just throw people to the ceiling! Or roar at them, or terrify them and expect them to be nice back!" Her breath hitched when he leaned closer as she wriggled in his grasp. "_Let go of me!_" she hissed.

Drago pulled back abruptly, knocking over his chair and pausing with his back towards her. _There you go again, bringing out people's worst sides. Her 'friends' don't make her cower, you do._ His shoulders rolled up and down mechanically as if he was trying to control himself. After awhile, he muttered "I'm sorry. I did not think that you would be so scared. I'll leave now." But before he could get out, a pair of hands grabbed his fist, pulling him back.

Célina had no idea what she was doing, but for some reason, the pain in his voice struck her hard. How could she be so silly! Here he was trying to apologise, and all she could do was fixate on how scary he was! He obviously wasn't very good at talking to people, and she was making it worse by yelling at him. Drago was obviously trying to be nice, even if it was…still quite vicious. He didn't have any friends, and he couldn't be wearing head to toe black for no reason!

"No, it's ok," She whispered, "thank you for apologising, Drago."

"It's…ok." Had she actually willingly touched him? She really was unique. He turned back a little, letting her hands coax open his tight fist until her forefingers lay on the centre of his palm gently. He stiffened a little, but didn't pull away. "I will take you to your room, once you are dressed. I'll get your clothes from the medic." He pulled away slightly, and disappeared for a few moments in search of Madame Winslow.

Célina shook her head. What was she doing? She was being nice to this demonic classmate of hers, when he was the reason that she was here!

_But he didn't _mean _to drop you, that was the Marauder's fault._

Stupid, impulsive James! Had none of them come to check up on her? Drago's words stuck her hard; he was right, they had abandoned her, only caring now because she had to show around the new student with an attitude problem. Remus had said they couldn't be friends because he didn't want to put her in danger, and now he was running to her aid like she was some bloody damsel in distress!

Drago gently dropped a plastic bag of her clothes at the end of the bed, and then pulled the curtains for her to change behind him. After a few moments, Célina emerged back in her school robes, and smiled at him shyly. "Shall we go now?"

He stiffly nodded and followed her out of the room, trying to not audibly breath in her scent.

They were close to Gryffindor tower when Célina struck up the courage to talk. "I'm sorry about thinking the worst of you before, Drago. It was immature to do so and I probably made things a whole lot worse."

"You did nothing wrong," He tried to ignore the trill he felt when she said his name. "I was all me, I should've-no, I know I-" he snarled and punched a pillar, instantly withdrawing. He was childishly relieved when Célina didn't look at him in horror, but gently pulled him back into a walking pace.

'It's all right, I understand."

"You're terrified of me. Everyone is."

Oh god, he sounds so broken! Célina gave him a shakily warm smile. "That's true," she chuckled, "You not exactly the most charismatic and welcoming person. But I…I'm not as scared as I was before you spoke to me nicely."

Drago's body slacked with surprise. "You're not…why are you even still here? Most people would have demanded that Dumbledore hand me over to someone else!"

Célina couldn't help but smile at this. "Well _I'm _not most people! You're not the first…odd person I've met, and I'm not exactly normal either!" She waved her hands around to make her point.

Drago snarled and muttered darkly, "Oh yes, the _werewolf _and the_ animagi."_

Célina gasped. "How- how did you-"

"I sensed it." He was being purposely vague, she knew that.

_I'm much worse than some puny werewolf. _

"Please don't tell anyone! Remus doesn't deserve the hate others of his kind receives, and the others only ever became animagi to be with him when he transforms!" she pleaded.

"You're _still _defending them, even when they abandoned you!"

"You don't know anything about us, so stop bad mouthing them!" she snapped. They had reached the Fat Lady's portrait, standing on the steps in front of her.

"Then enlighten me." Drago snapped back.

"Fine!" She said, "I think I will!"

"I'm _all ears, _girl."

"My name isn't 'girl' it's Célina, you brute." She retorted, instantly regretting it as Drago suddenly halted and glared at her.

_Oh shit, now you've done it this time, just when he was starting to be nice to you!_

"I'm listening… _Célina." _He rumbled after taking a moment to regard her.

"Well," she tried to regain her composure, but then gave up and sighed, defeated. "Remus was my best friend here, ever since first year. He's- was like a brother to me; after he told me being bitten, and how James, Sirius and Peter helped him each month, I was even more excited about becoming an animagus. But…I don't know why, but he just turned around the other day and said that we couldn't be friends, a-and that-" her confession was halted with a gasp.

Drago was boiling with anger when she started to cry. The Marauders were going to be punished for hurting her. How stupid was the fur ball for letting her go!

He pressed down a gloved finger to her cheekbone to catch a tear, softly rubbing it away and savouring the warmth through his glove from her flesh. Célina didn't dare move or say anything. She simply stood there, holding her breath and revelled in the sharp tingles of the skin beneath his glove.

Merlin, what was she doing? He was obviously extremely masculine, and made her feel so small and defenceless; she was flushed by her attraction to him, and scolded herself mentally.

_Don't be silly, he just feels bad that you're crying! Get a grip! _

He was making her feel so feverish, yet deliciously light headed at the same time. Célina tilted her head slightly to look at Drago's face, which was trained on hers intently, anxious to interpret it. How could he go from terrifying you to a wit's end to being so compassionate?

"Do you plan to just stand there all night, or actually give me the password?" The Fat Lady said sassily. They both jumped apart.

"T-Trussled Turkeys" Célina said. They both hurried into the common room, followed by the Fat Lady's grumbles about being woken up.

Drago stopped her before she could head up towards the girl's wing. "They aren't worth your tears," _They'll pay for making you cry._

She gave him a watery smile of gratitude, still reeling from the soft humming of his chest that he had revved. "Tell that to my tear ducts." She swayed where she was, watching him breath in to say something, then look away with a shake of his head. "Do…do you want to be friends, is that why…" Her eyes went wide when she realised with she was saying, and she went bright red.

"What would do if I say yes?"

"We would have to talk without me crying or you threatening someone," she chuckled, genial when he emitted his own rumble of humour. It was so intoxicating, like the blinding sun of July which always put her in a great place. "What else would we do as …friends?"

"Well, I suppose…spend time together, have conversations, do fun things. But you can't start punching walls and try to curse people when you're angry! Arguments should be resolved verbally, with _dignity_."

"Starting from now, I will do that."

"But-oh, ok… wait a second, 'from now'? What did you do when I was unconscious?!"

"I…it doesn't matter. I had a disagreement with one of the cowardly snakes in our year at lunch. It won't happen again."

"Drago…"

He pretended he didn't hear her, and took her shoulders as calmly as he could, encouraged when she lay her hands on his upper arms. "You need to know this though; I can't change my ways so easily, and I am a bastard to deal with. I've got a vicious temper; I'm twisted, foul and bitter, wrought with revenge. I don't do well with insults, or mercy." He growled softly when Célina tried to speak. "But I won't let anyone hurt you, as your friend, especially not those fuckers who made you cry; you can trust me with your life, and I'll stay loyal to you even when others try and make you feel insignificant just because you're different and beautiful."

_Jesus, he's so sincere; I was right, he just wanted to be my friend, that's why he refused to leave me alone. His actions make sense now, well partially…_

_He thinks I'm beautiful?_

Célina smiled widely at him and pulled him down into a hug, letting her arms wrap around his stooped neck. "Thank you. That's all I ask for, Drago."

"So we're …friends?" Drago whispered in her ear.

"Yes, we are." He reluctantly let her pull away. "I'll see you tomorrow, we should go to bed like everyone else. Can I meet you here instead of the Great Hall for breakfast?"

"I'll be waiting."

Célina gave him a warm glance before walking up the stairs to her room. "Good night, Drago."

"Sleep well… Célina."


End file.
